


Who Pays the Cost

by Emrys_Fae



Series: Spooky Wars [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Death, Ritual Sacrifice, Transmigration, consequences of Tatooine Massacre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:49:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emrys_Fae/pseuds/Emrys_Fae
Summary: Obi-Wan has paid the price for Anakin's choices since the beginning, but this will be the last time.Someone has to pay the cost.
Series: Spooky Wars [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985725
Comments: 13
Kudos: 206
Collections: Spooky Wars Week





	Who Pays the Cost

**Author's Note:**

> Spooky Wars Week: Day 4 - Teeth, Claws, and Other Weapons

“Obi-Wan, please, _don’t_.”

Obi-Wan sighed, undoing his utility belt and carefully setting aside, for all that neatness was hardly a priority in this situation. His robe was already folded and placed on the sand. “We don’t have a _choice_ , Anakin.” He met Anakin’s eyes. “Unless you’re suggesting that we massacre _this_ tribe as well.” The accusation came out perfectly even, for all that Obi-Wan _ached_ with the newly discovered truth.

The truth that Anakin had _massacred_ an entire village.

And because such senseless slaughter was not terrible enough, had sparked the turmoil between Tusken Raiders and moisture farmers that had gotten hundreds of people—Tuskens and farmers both—killed in the two years since. And now some of their own men had been captured, would be, if the moisture farmers’ experience was to be taken as example, tortured and then killed.

“They’re not even a part of the Republic, Obi-Wan. It’s not your duty to—”

“Something must be done, Anakin.”

He could see Anakin grit his teeth, hands clenching and unclenching in agitated hopelessness. “I’ll do it,” Anakin finally ground out. “I’ll… I’ll go through the ceremony.”

Obi-Wan looked away, his hands moving to the edge of his tunic, before stripping it off, leaving himself in just his under tunic and pants. “Even if I was inclined to let you, Anakin. You _can’t_.” And this, this somehow just as much, if not more, than the rest of it, hurt. “You don’t regret what you did. To the Tusken Raiders, your sacrifice would be nothing more than poison.”

_Force_ , how could Anakin not regret what he’d done? He’d killed _children_ , had slaughtered them in their mothers’ arms and _he_ _didn’t care_.

Obi-Wan could imagine the grief Anakin had felt, his mother dying in his arms. Could understand that rage would follow, a desire for retribution. But to _act_ on that, to take that rage and direct it against the innocent?

Obi-Wan loved Anakin, he was Obi-Wan’s _brother_.

But in this moment, he found himself wondering if he even knew who Anakin was.

“Obi-Wan, they’re going to _kill_ you.”

They were. Obi-Wan was under no delusions about the nature of his sacrifice. It didn’t change the necessity of it.

“Go back to the ship,” Obi-Wan told him quietly. “Take Rex with you. Cody will come with me to lead our captured men back to the ship.” Obi-Wan could not trust that Anakin wouldn’t lash out at the Tuskens once Obi-Wan was killed. That he would not commit a _second_ massacre. “Go back to the Temple, tell the Council the truth.” He met Anakin’s eyes. _“All of it_.”

Anakin flinched back. “They’ll kick me out. They’ll—”

“They will help you.” They’d help Anakin in ways that Obi-Wan had clearly failed to. It was too late to save the sand people Anakin had massacred. Too late to save Obi-Wan.

Hopefully it wasn’t too late to save Anakin.

“Obi-Wan, I—”

“Someone has to pay the price for what you did, Anakin.” First, it had been the innocent moisture farmers, then their own men, and now it was Obi-Wan.

Anakin ran his mechanical hand through his hair, eyes wide and distraught. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, because even now, even faced with the destruction he’d wrought, the _consequences_ of his actions, Anakin couldn’t find it in him to regret. Refused to take responsibility for what he’d done. Was still trying to push the blame on everyone else. “That’s not enough, Anakin.”

Anakin shook his head, rage and fear and anger and confusion thrashing through him. Obi-Wan could feel it turning into a danger determination. “I _won’t_ let you do this. I _won’t_.”

Obi-Wan sighed, turning away. Cody had left behind his blaster at Obi-Wan’s request, and Obi-Wan reached for it, movement hidden by his body. For all that his Commander would never forgive Obi-Wan for choosing this path, his Commander understood the need for it.

Understood that Obi-Wan _could not_ stand by as innocents were killed.

He moved, twisting and bringing the blaster up. Perhaps the Force itself understood the necessity of Obi-Wan’s actions, or perhaps it was because Obi-Wan _loved_ Anakin even still, and still wanted to protect him. Anakin had no warning as the two stun bolts slammed into him.

“I’m sorry, Anakin,” he whispered to the unconscious figure.

—

They trekked into the desert, Obi-Wan in the middle of the procession, Cody behind him, grief and anger twisting around him in the Force.

They had already argued, Cody adamant that there was another way. But Obi-Wan wouldn’t sacrifice any of the 212th. And the truth was that the Jedi owed the Tuskens for what Anakin had done.

They hiked, late into the night, the suns dipping down and disappearing as the three moons rose into the sky.

Time seemed to stretch on forever, while disappearing in the blink of an eye, and soon they were there.

He could feel the presence of his men, not far from the dune they stopped on, an ominous, dangerous, not-quite-sapient presence lurking just by them.

The lead Tusken gestured with his hands, indicating that Obi-Wan finish stripping like a proper sacrifice.

Obi-Wan removed his final under tunic, folding it carefully. He reached for his lightsaber which he’d tied to his pants. He held it for a moment, running his fingers over the casing.

This weapon was his life.

He turned, raising his hands in quick supplication when the Tuskens tensed. He couldn’t blame them, the last time a Tusken Raider had seen a lightsaber an entire village had died.

He moved to Cody, slowly, holding out his lightsaber. “Take care of it for me, please.”

Cody looked devastated. “General, we can find—”

“Please, Cody. This is to free your brothers. And you’re the only one I can trust my saber too, now.” He couldn’t trust it to Anakin, couldn’t bare to risk that Anakin might someday lift Obi-Wan’s lightsaber against the innocent the way Anakin had done with his own saber.

In that moment, Cody looked like he hated Obi-Wan just a little, for making him witness this; still, his voice was composed when he spoke, only the quietest hints of grief and helplessness sneaking through. “I’ll keep it for you, General.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t blame him for that anger. All Obi-Wan had to do was let the Tuskens kill him. Cody was the one who had to watch Obi-Wan die and had to live on past it.

With his saber in the safest hands Obi-Wan could imagine, it was easy enough to finish stripping, standing bare under the moonlight.

Two of the Tuskens led him to a pole standing at the top of the dune. Obi-Wan didn’t fight as they tied him up, hands above his head forcing him to stretch onto the tips of his toes.

Obi-Wan had been tortured before.

Had been hurt, over and over, for no other reason than someone wanting to see him in pain.

He could deal with pain, _had_ dealt with pain.

Still watching the sand people circle him, Krayt claws and teeth in their hands, he felt a too familiar sense of fear.

No matter how used to pain he was, he didn’t _want_ this to happen. Had not wanted to sign himself up to be sacrificed to make amends for a sin that wasn’t his.

There had just hadn’t been any other options, after what Anakin had done, if they wanted to save their men and to bring peace between the Tuskens and moisture farmers.

Obi-Wan could never hate Anakin, he simply wasn’t capable of it… But there was a small, cowardly part of Obi-Wan that was grateful that life and the Force had given him death now.

The first Tusken stepped forward, sharpened claw in hand, bringing the sharp edge to the skin just below Obi-Wan’s heart.

The entire desert seemed to grow silent, the planet, the _galaxy_ , holding it’s breath.

The pain was exquisite, sharp and crystalline as the claw dug deep into his skin, before being dragged slowly downward, ripping him open.

There was soft, rhythmic chanting, the words in a language Obi-Wan did not understand. A prayer, a ritual, a proper sacrifice.

The Force was swirling around him, whispering warnings it was too late to do anything about. A darkening galaxy, it’s beacon of light being ripped away too soon.

Another Tusken moved forward, Krayt tooth resting against his shoulder, it tore a bloody path down his arm, the pain ripping him away from the strange vision the Force was trying to show him.

Cody’s grief was a wave against his senses, pulling him down into an abyss of emotions. It was not an unfamiliar grief, not to Obi-Wan, and not to this barren desert so full of grief.

Tusken after Tusken stepped forward, claws and teeth in hand as they systematically tore into him. Obi-Wan could not see his own skin as he stared up into the endless sky, but he knew without looking that there was some sort of pattern being carved into his very being.

The final Tusken stepped forward, claw in hand.

He did not understand the words that slipped from their mouth, but could recognize it as a proclamation.

It was time to die.

The claw rested against his throat, and Obi-Wan welcomed the final cut with open arms.

The stars were spinning around him, his body nothing more than a construct caging him. With each dying breath he spread free, his soul slipping away from the crude matter that held him.

He was nothing and everything, his soul twisting and spinning just like the stars around him.

He was one with the Force and one with nothing but himself. He was everything. He was nothing.

In the construct of his body, his breaths were coming sparser, blood bubbling in his throat and drowning him.

_Protect us._ The steady chant of the sand people ran through him like a live wire, the words that Obi-Wan had not understood now seemed to be the only truly tangible thing in the entire galaxy.

He could feel a tug, trying to latch onto his soul, to pull him. It would be easy, it would be _so_ easy to ignore it, to let himself disperse into the Force, to be a part of that whole.

The Force _called_ to him, beckoning him into it’s embrace.

He longed for it, _ached_ for it. Yet, even as he wanted to let himself fall into it, he _knew_ he couldn’t. He’d been sacrificed for a purpose, and now as he spiraled towards death, he knew what that purpose was. He couldn’t let his own longing for peace get in the way of it. He let the soft tug guide his soul, felt himself twisting and spiraling as that strange essence that was _him_ moved across the desert.

He could still feel his dying body, felt the last, broken breath slip past bloody lips.

Everything disappeared and Obi-Wan knew that he was nothing at all.

Air filled his lungs, the breath deeper and stronger than anything he’d ever taken before.

The knowledge of who and what he was settled deep in him.

A hunter. A protector.

He opened his eyes.

The haunting cry of the Greater Krayt echoed over the sand dunes.


End file.
